Infernum
by Paradigm of Writing
Summary: And so they sat there, waiting till their retched lies and pasts caught up with them. The screams did nothing to stop the relenting tide of darkness from consuming them whole. It was every man for himself, and their new home spared no expense. Only one word echoed in their minds as their souls passed through. "Infernum..."
1. (1): The Ruined Soldier

**Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here with a new idea. It's not a one-shot, but it's not necessarily a story either as there is no continuity in this piece, as in I don't have a plot for it... yeah, I know. In fact, the title is Latin, and in English Infernum literally translates to Hell. So yeah, this is quite the... quite the idea. I hope you all enjoy this first chapter, which I'm doing in a new style. Hopefully you can understand what's going on, lol. So, here is Chapter 1- Ruined Soldier.**

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" _Metal... cold and grating. It burns the skin to the touch, it inflames the flesh. A slice here, a slice there and they're dead. Hahaha... perhaps I'm too twisted for my own mind..._ "

He sits in the room, hands locked in a straightjacket. Any struggle is shot down immediately as there are taser guns lined on the walls, ready to eject their streams of lightning without a second thought. His voice went out days ago, all he can do is screech that he wants his weapon back, he wants to enter the battlefield once more and kill all the infidels that made him lose everything. Now that his throat had betrayed him, all he could do was make noises that sounded somewhat similar to that of a donkey, pleading and moaning for freedom. The anesthesia doesn't calm him down, it makes him wilder. Closing his eyes, he can remember a more peaceful time when he wasn't necessarily a full blown psycho.

" _But oh how I love it,"_ he thinks with relish. " _Maybe I'm too evil for my own good. Doesn't matter. Once I get out of this damn trap, they'll all wish they never put me in here in the first place_."

He doesn't know how 'they' are. He has only heard bits and pieces of garbled conversations that keep him from deciphering long conversations. There is a camera positioned in his room, near the crook where the wall met the window. He cannot reach the window with his hands, clearly from being tied in a straightjacket, but he can't even reach it with his feet. That factor surprises him the most, for he was most noted for his amazing flexibility and dexterity, a skill that allowed him to be the greatest fighter the world had ever seen.

Sometimes a guard would visit him, and the person would talk in a low voice so their supervisors wouldn't hear them. If he got a closer look, he'd see that his only contact of human life was a girl, a person he couldn't ever really relate to. One day she had said something, something foul and so damn hurtful that he jumped for the bars of his cell, gnashing his teeth in a manner only described as evil. She fled from his presence, never to return again. That was when his voice was working, and he couldn't believe what was to come out of his mouth moments later.

"You slippery whore!" he screamed, bashing all of his might into the walls of his prison.

In a blur, something invisible struck him, and he fell back, yelling with all of his emotion emptying out in one fell hiss. A splotch of crimson rolled down the pallid straightjacket, dripping into a small puddle on the cold floor. He blinked, blinked some more, and blinked more after that before letting out the loudest scream anyone had ever heard. He backed up to the corner wall, and started muttering back and forth. " _It's not real buddy, don't worry it's not real. You aren't hurt... oh you are hurt! That whore shot you!"_

The pain in his shoulder still burned, and he zapped out of his traumatic state. Night and day flickered off in his mind, and he smashed himself into the bars once more. "Let me at her! I want to rip the flesh from her bones!" he howled. A light, much brighter than any he had ever seen before, flashed in his face. He fell back again, wishing he could press his hands to his face once more. The corneas inside his eyes flamed, he felt his skin crisp dark.

His cell had a mirror, next to his bedside so he could at least remember what he looked like. Scrambling quickly over to it, he looked back at his reflection. "Who are you..." he whispered, unsure of the monster staring back at him. His once pretty features were now smoldering, as if the light that he had been exposed to was much more than that. The scars still lingered, the ones on the inside were still hidden to him. Horrified by what he saw, the ruined soldier collapsed into a sobbing fit of tears, before he griped about not having a weapon. He wanted his weapon.

The wound kept bleeding out, the cloth felt a million pounds heavier than before as it soaked up the blood. The taste of copper lingered his mouth, a bad aftertaste that acted as his punishment. "Let me out! Let me out!"

The girl would stand nearby, from the steps. Although she never contacted or spoke to him again, she still watched. She felt his pain too, the stabbing cold in her heart resonated with his cries. He couldn't see her, his rage had blinded him to all else that moved. "He wants to get out, but he hasn't learned about what's keeping him here." she said to herself, disturbed to now see that the ruined man was laughing at the camera.

"I know who you are," he lied. "You can't fool me."

With a cackle, the ruined soldier jumped back to the middle of his room, but the force of his jump was much more than he expected. A resonating crack burst out from the back of his head, and he let one low guttural scream tear from his lips. A matching pool of dark scarlet trickled out from underneath, mixing in with the one from his shoulder. The tears trickled down his cheeks.

"I just want to go home..."

Since his mind was already gone, he could hear the blood whisper back to him. "You're already home, soldier."

The ruined soldier bled out, and two hours later, he had died.

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 **Well, this is certainly a strange idea, don't you think. Not everyone is going to be in an insane asylum, but a few will be. This story is named Hell, after all, right? Well, thanks for reading guys! Please review, I'd love to hear from you! Thanks so much guys! Next chapter, is #2: Herald of Misery. Love you all! And, if you're able, go vote on my poll! It's about my multi-chaptered story I want to do for the autumn season. Go vote! I need your input. Bye everyone!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	2. (2): Herald of Misery

**Hello everyone, it's Paradigm of Writing back again with the 2nd chapter of Infernum: Herald of Misery. Today's an extremely special day for me, as it is the two year anniversary of when I made this account and posted my first fanfiction on the same day. Then, a day later came Cross Examined, two days later came my first horrendous one-shots... lol. The amount of improvement I've had on this site (i.e Fading, Oasis, this story, Mannequin, Ichor etc...) just goes to show that you should never count yourself out. I want to say thank you to every reader, every reviewer, every follow, every person who has favored me, every person I've PM'd... just thank you. And of course I must thank my Fanfiction Family which is stated on my profile, I wouldn't be on this site if it weren't for you all, please know that. I don't want to say much more or I'll start crying. But since it's my anniversary here, the fun times must be ruined by this dark chapter. Enjoy!**

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Day in and day out he stood there, holding that silly green trumpet. He'd play a simple scale whenever asked, which was roughly about five times a day. He'd then go and sit on the side of the throne room like the obedient dog he was and wait, sitting there patiently till he was called up again. Goodness, how he hated it. The king and queen didn't even know his name, to them he was just called Herald. Herald wasn't even his name. His name actually was... actually, that didn't matter, least to him.

He was given two drachma a day, enough for food, a bed, and a nice walk down by the lake. For a simple, halcyon piece of metal with the king's smug face plastered on it. How self-righteous must one think of himself when their face is painted on the nation's currency? " _Very much so_." the herald would think, his thoughts laced with darkness.

He'd sit there in his little spot, waiting for his next summon. His legs, by the fifth hour would start to cramp. His butt would be sore from his god awful outfit designated by his superiors. He'd watch in envy as the king and queen dined on exquisite cuisine from far away lands. The oil and olive tree figs from Hyrule, or the decadent golden cake squares from Skyworld. Kalos loved to send fruit baskets to the king and queen, which was the only time the herald ever got his favorite fruit. He adored the taste and smell of kiwi, an extra bonus that the fruit glittered like an emerald in his hand. He was bemused whenever the king would touch one, and then almost throw the basket away in disgust as the royal man would recognize what he was about to put in his mouth. The herald also wondered why the king loved apples so much, the queen taking a rather peculiar fascination with peaches and grapefruit.

When the sun would just dip below the skyline, the herald would be free to go. He'd trek down the long road to his dilapidated shack, where the same three men who were there every night would be. He'd be roughed around for one of his drachma, then beaten senseless so that when the herald arrived the next morning for duty, he'd look as if a bear mauled him. The brute force of his attackers sure felt like the strength of a bear.

As it was, the herald's life seemed very boring, nothing exciting happened. One day, he had seen a new shipment of swords come in from Hyrule, the king of that land was fascinated with the weapon. Seeing as he had nothing else to do, and had nearly an hour till he needed to blow his stupid instrument, he took a leave of absence. The weapons seemed mighty in his hands. Jokingly, he mimed a fight with a carnivorous dragon, like the ones he heard from his mother before she had passed on due to old age.

That was when the trouble had started. A soldier charged with protecting the valuables from intruders barged in with an ego more inflated than the king's. There was yelling, clashes of steel and flesh, and then a euphoric rush hit the herald. The soldier had lost his footing, but managed to bring down the herald as well. In a crazed attempt of getting to his feet, the downed attacker had been stabbed between the rib cage by the herald's hand. It was an accident, anyone watching would've known. But the herald felt something different after finding out that the soldier was dead. Droplets of cardinal dripped off of the herald's fingertips, a fire burning in his veins that he hadn't known before.

" _What is this... this feeling? I don't know what it is, but it's a good one!_ " the herald thought in excitement.

Hearing the commotion, the king had sent a search party down in the warehouse, merely to scope out and assess the issue. The herald liked his newfound strength and slaughtered the entire band of men, down to the last plume of a pilum being broken. He jumped in the puddles of blood, splashing and yelling with joy as every new beat sent a shockwave of more red throughout the room. As he expressed his joy, he felt another emotion radiate. Anger. Pulsing rage. He knew what exactly had to be done, that there was no stopping the tide of events anymore.

He had to kill the king and queen.

Marching up like the trooper he was, the herald brandished his sword like a cross, running straight at the king as he sat on his throne. One quick stab in the gut, and the head man of royalty was nothing more than a corpse. He'd stab the body again and again, extorting his malice. "This is for all of the shit you've put me through!" the herald hissed, moving the sword up and down in the king's rotting flesh.

The queen sat on her throne screaming her delicate head off. Coming to terms with that she might've been next, she fled too. The herald turned around, his face devoid of any other emotion other than determination. Holding his sword like a spear, he chucked it at the fleeing woman of royalty. The blade hit her square in the back, between her two shoulder blades. A ear-splitting shriek tore from the queen's lips as blood frothed and spewed outward from the wound and her mouth.

The herald walked over to the queen, surprised to see her actually still alive. She raised a weak hand to him. "Please don't..." she whispered.

"You've closed that path a long time ago."

"Why are you doing this?"

"For the same reason you fled," the herald said. "I'm tired of my life being boring."

He drew back his hand, sending the weapon straight into her throat. A cracking sound entered his ears as the top portion of the queen's spine was severed in two. With a relinquishing sigh of pleasure, the herald withdrew the sword. The throne room was a bloody mess, swamps of crimson dotting the carpet. Ceremoniously, knowing that royalty had to have a proper burial, he put the king and queen side by side before lighting the room on fire. And then the herald sat, on the king's throne. Laughing to himself, he let the fire consume him whole.

His life was no longer boring.

However, what the sad part was... his king and his queen were his family.

The king, his brother.

The queen, his brother's wife.

He killed them without blinking an eye.

He used to be the herald of misery, but now he was the herald of sovereignty.

His world stayed strong, even as it collapsed in a burning mess around him.

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 ***clears throat* Hmm... holy shit, can I say... Man, I love pieces like this for a reason. And trust me, I'm not insane... yet. Lol, I'm kidding. Thanks for reading guys! Please review and let me know what you thought. For everyone out there, I want to say thank you again for making this fanfiction year of mine amazing. I can only hope to do more unbelievable things in the future. Chapter 3 is going to be rather interesting. It's called Dichotomy Key. Yep, I've got an idea for this one. Love you all! Bye!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	3. (3): Dichotomy Key

**Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here with the 3rd chapter of Infernum: Dichotomy Key. This is a very interesting chapter, but once again it's extremely twisted, gory, and other nasty stuff that I do very well apparently. I'll be focusing on this much more next week after Policies in Detention has it's last chapter posted on Monday. I've got a few ideas next after this one like Plastic Beach, Cardinal Stained Eyes, Fragile, Lake of the Ravens, and more dark pieces that always result in the protagonists drowning themselves in their own Infernum, or hell. Let's do this guys! *P.S, don't expect much of a chapter with this one. It's more like a simple drabble to tone down the creepiness and the gore that'll be the next few chapters. You think these three chapters are bad in terms of gore and stuff? Hahaha, you have seen nothing yet.***

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" _Need to hunt. I need to get my blood._ " the beast thought to himself, swiping another mosquito off his fur.

He wasn't a stranger to the forest, every creature feared him. His howl sent chilled shivers down the other animals spines as they cowered and hid from his intimidating form. A detached limb that used to belong to a rabbit was hanging loosely in his mouth, trailing blood behind him in a psychotic dance as he leapt and ran through the emerald blend of trees.

"I know you're out there, you can't hide from me girlie!" he howled.

The moon shone in the sky, pallid light streaming down and pooling in miniscule patches that made the canopy floor seem like the bed of the sea. As he raced through the maze, anytime he got caught in the moonlit pockets, his fur was singed. He growled, clutching his right arm, while extending his claws to bat another pesky insect off of his hunched body. It was no secret that moonlight burned the beast of the night's body, it was a common occurrence in the forest.

A small squeak came from behind a bush, and he snapped his eyes back to see his prey trapped in a corner, stuck in a spider web. He chuckled to himself, his partner always did her job like he asked.

"Now, I won't hurt you," he lied, talking to the child in a low voice. "I just want to talk."

"Get away from me, you devil!" she hissed, somehow breaking free of her prison.

His canines sprouted forth, and he clashed his jaw. "You want to play like that, huh? I'll send you straight to my hell then!"

He lunged for the kid, who had surprising reflexes. She dove under him, and he saw something silver slide out of her hands. She swiped up, and the beast screamed in pain. His eyes narrowed weakly at the knife clutched in the girl's hand. "I said to stay back!"

"So you're a killer? That's very commendable of you. Where did you learn how to fight? From your dead daddy?" he taunted.

He grabbed her by the arm, his claws digging into her delicious flesh. She shrieked, her eyes widening in terror as every scratch and dig oozed out more and more cardinal leaflets. Thinking fast, she used her free hand to slam the beast in the face. He let her go, falling back in shock. The cut from his waist was starting to burn, it couldn't be ignored any longer.

"The last thing you'll ever do is taunt my family." the girl sneered. The two jumped for each other once more, when the young girl got the upper hand. She lodged the knife straight into his ribs.

Blood poured out from the two wounds, and he stumbled back. His voice was priceless. "I'm supposed to be the predator. And you're supposed to be my prey..."

The girl smiled. "That's why you don't mess with us Hylians. We flip the key around."

He flopped to his back, unable to get the knife out of his ribs. As he fell, the moonlight shifted so a patch was in the way of his retreat. One trip, and the beast was done for. He screamed, trying to cover his face from the searing fire that tore away his fur, that striped him down to nothing but bones. All the girl did was stand there and smile, twirling a second blade in her hand with an amusing gaze fixated at her dying enemy.

Not even five minutes later, the dreaded beast that everyone feared had been reduced to a pile of bones and fur. The girl laughed to, commending herself on another successful kill order. As her last sentiment, although it was hardly empathetic, was a simple needle placed straight through the beast's skull. He had killed her family years before she was born, and it was her destiny to avenge the ones who wronged her. He had wanted to finish the job, and he came close.

The dichotomy key of the forest was supposed to never lie, but one turn of the tide and the key flipped. The two got in the unfortunate cross-hairs. He was now the prey, she was his predator. A rule of nature was that an ecosystem out of balance always restored itself. What does the ecosystem do, exactly?

It restores balanced by eliminating the problem.

His reign of terror was her opportunity.

It turned out that the forest was soon going to need a new dichotomy key.

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 **Well, we're done with that one! Sorry if it's inept to what I usually do, as I'm a little out of it for I had no true direction with where I wanted this to go. But, Plastic Beach is next, and it is indeed going to the best of this entire little series. I guess this a horror/one-shot series, I mean what else would you all describe it as? Whatever the case may be, thanks for reading guys! If you could please spare two minutes of your time, and you'll need a computer to do this, please go onto my profile page and vote on the poll there. Your input will mean so much! Love you all! See you Thursday with Chapter 4: Plastic Beach.**

 **~ Paradigm**


	4. (4): Plastic Beach

**Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here with the 4th chapter of Infernum: Plastic Beach. There's a certain user by the name of Mikaela, and another by the name of Triple who I think are very excited for this chapter- since I spoiled the main characters of this chapter to them. I'm trying to push some boundaries I have with this stuff, and I'm making this chapter one twisted piece of shit, mark my words. This will be one of the longest ones in the collection. I'm going with like maybe 9-12 or so of these ideas and I want to be done no later than August 25th, mark my words! Here we go, for the most twisted thing I've probably ever written in the Rating of T. This chapter is going to have some... extremities, right off the bad with this first segment. The P.O.V is one character the entire time, the other characters are referenced clearly.**

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In a heated clash of flesh, he groaned as his boyfriend playfully teased his chest with gentle hands. In a muted silence, there was a collected gasp as soft spots were hit with hard forces and vice versa. Amber eyes matched diamond orbs and passionate kisses distilled the longing quiet. Patches of pitch black and pallid white overlapped each other as a turmoil of bodies swapped spots on the bed.

"You're luscious..." he groaned, latching on with his teeth to a particular piece.

His boyfriend gasped, his voice a faint laugh. "You act like a vampire."

Nails raked down, whining and screeching coming from distinct places unable to be spotted due to the ominous and dark atmosphere of the bedroom. Clamping of jaws, exasperated breaths, pleasuring moans, shocked yelps, roars of heartbeats, stunning bursts of light... each sound wavered into an orchestra that proudly displayed the act of intimacy. With a shattering scream, the boyfriend slammed his might against him, ripped tears of flesh and weak sobs interrupting what could've been a beautiful moment.

The two lied next to each other, panting, panting, and panting some more. Drips of sweat cascaded down his forehead, pooling his exposed sternum. His whole body ached, it shook with great fervor. Each tremor emitted a sigh, each newly placed kiss getting rewarded with a playful yelp. The ambiance helped the situation tremendously as the boyfriend quietly slipped out of bed.

"I love you darling."

He wishes he didn't have to respond. "I love you too. Always will."

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The flashes of light dance and daze him as he stumbles drunkenly around the club. Bursts of cardinal streams, ghostly olive lines, blurred navy streaks, dashing and bouncing bodies blend all together for a twisted warp of erotica, noise, and joy. The drink in his hand sloshes about here and there, spilling sulfuric acid to the floor that sizzles and bubbles. The burning in his throat can't match the pounding in his chest, and even that isn't close to the vibrating in his pelvis. Copper drips off of his fingertips, playfully tossing around the broken finger in his loose grasp.

He is bumped into rather forcefully by the other patrons dancing, unaware that one of their very own was dragging body parts in a wagon throughout their dance floor. He pulls on the wagon, he hisses as the metal scratches his hands, he laughs at the shocked faces of those who understand the situation, he sighs as the cool crimson droplets tickle his toes. His playground was a wonderful area to be in.

A certain lava haired individual follows him closely, he knows of his presence. He stops, letting his follower run into him head on.

"You know better to sneak up on me here."

"I can't help myself," the stranger admits. "You're the only thing I can see amid this darkness."

He laughs. "Fool. I _am_ the darkness."

Lips are pressed together rather suddenly, the notion of love even being there was remote. He acted on instinct, knowing that someone wanted him, and he wanted someone. His boyfriend wasn't there to satisfy those needs. Blinding flashes of anemic flesh look like phantoms in the strobe tunnel, warm consonants flutter and stop in the nape of his neck. The red haired stranger grins, finding the one sweet luxury he'd been seeking all day. The club owner, the one without his boyfriend, doesn't like that very much however and he knees the other in the throat.

"You do not touch me there, for I am not your item." he hisses.

The stranger stands, very embarrassed. "Of course, good sir."

He hands the man a twenty. "Seek me again tomorrow. Perhaps I can change our terms..."

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He is at the beach with his boyfriend, hands linked together, kisses shared after a laugh or cry. He constantly thinks back to the fiery redhead in his club, dancing opal eyes, a glittering smile, playful hands that his boyfriend would dream of having.

The two stand in the water together, letting the gentle waves lapel over their feet and rise to their knees. He stares at his boyfriend, feeling the wind ripple through his back.

"I, I have to something to say."

The boyfriend turns his head, his eyes confused. The poor sap doesn't even know. "Yes?"

"I'm moving on to someone else." he replies, and then he grabs his boyfriend by the hand and flips him into the water. The boyfriend has little time to respond, as he is pushed into the water, dirt entering his nose, his mouth, his lungs and other body parts that can't be seen. He pushes down on his ex-boyfriend's head harder and harder so that the body under him starts twitching uncontrollably, gasps for air turning into choked croaks of struggle. He digs his fingernails into his boyfriend's head, wanting the deed to be over. Spurts of blood reward his strength, and soon the body goes limb.

He pulls back, letting the tide clean his hand, letting his boyfriend's body be carried out to sea.

He can't help but blink as one white feather blows into his hand, a reminder of what he just did. Scowling, he presses it somewhere behind him to vanish into his own wave of black. His club was his true paradise, the beach was his boyfriend's. The bedroom was only interment. He knew however, in his mind, that the beach would soon come plastic. He wasn't done, not by a long shot.

Next target was the boy with the flaming head.

The plastic beach would soon have it's soil run a brilliant red.

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 **So it's not the longest one, but definitely the most twisted. I hope you all enjoyed this piece somewhat and I'm sorry if you are now scared of me forever and forever. I put as much description in here as I could. So, can you guess who our three characters were? We have the main one, a struggling guy with a desire for murder so he can move on from one lover to the other, the unfortunate boyfriend as his first victim, and the stranger in the club who'll be his second victim (perhaps). Please review you guys, and let me know what you thought! I'll see you all on Friday with the first chapter featuring a female lead- Lake of the Ravens! Love you all! Bye!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	5. (5): Lake of the Ravens

**Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here with the 5th chapter of Infernum: Lake of the Ravens. Last time I updated this story, I did Plastic Beach and hands down in just felt great writing something so twisted and messed up. And yes, I'm still sane. I pushed my Rated T limits to the max with a sensual scene that had all of you blushing, and a quick death to balance the romance. Today, we're shifting focus to more dark material, really where you tick off the wrong person- you're then dead meat. Last night, at 11:54 Standard Eastern Time (US East Coast), I posted the first chapter to my resurrection of Storytellers. Minus AN's, the chapter was 8472 words that I typed from 9:20-11:54. 8500 words done in two and a half hours? Yeah, I feel dead in my fingers lol, but when I'm dedicated, I'm dedicated to it forever. So, enjoy this chapter! And, P.S, I am flat out telling you all who are characters are in this one- it's inevitable.**

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 _Welcome to the Lake of the Ravens housing development! We hope you have a beak-errific day!_

That was the greeting on the sign outside the main building of Raven Lake, a prestigious paradise nestled away in a crook of woods off of the main highway. For only a price of $300,000 in one go, any man or woman could buy the whole estate which included twelve log cabins, an aviary chock full of ravens, and of course a lake. It wouldn't be Raven _Lake_ without the black bird nor that particular body of water.

The current owner, Zelda Myrindar, was forty five years old and acclaimed the property at the age of only eleven. It was a birthday present from her mother and father before they went away on a honeymoon and never came back. As the last piece of her old family, she wanted to make sure it was preserved and well kept. After a long conversation with the nearby locals of the lake did she one day decide to put the estate up for sale, because one day she'd get too old to take care of it, and after she was gone... the lake would need someone. She had no children, no close relatives. A proprietor needed to be sought out to become the next landlord.

She saw hundreds of people who all left her with the same result; she was declined time and time again. She'd lower the price down a thousand dollars, then by ten thousand, forty thousand... on and on she would scream numbers as the people would drive away in their cars. She'd call their numbers, go to their addresses; Zelda Myrindar was having her old home get sold one way or another.

She thought it would be hopeless, until one day she met Link Reinarcher. At a confident age of twenty-one, straight out of college, he was the ideal subject. With perfect sandy cropped hair, luscious diamond eyes, and a smile that weakened man and woman alike, Zelda was assured she'd have a buyer. Until...

"No." Link said, stopping in front of the lake, Zelda at his wake.

She blinked. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean, I don't want to buy the place."

"Why not? Is the price too high?"

"It's not that, Miss Myrindar. This lake just isn't my kind of home to own. You told me it's yours, correct? You should keep it, it'd keep your heritage restored and alive." Link shrugged.

Zelda couldn't believe her ears. "Listen, Mr. Reinarcher. This is why I'm selling it, I don't have anyone I know that can take this place off of my hands-"

She was interrupted by the cawing of almost twenty ravens, each bird landing silently on the branches of the trees around her. Zelda stopped talking, leaving Link to be left at a loss. She never told any of her 'clients' this before, but she advice she had gotten from... she received it from her birds. They talked to her, in a strange telepathic way; Zelda swore she heard them talking to her. Her ravens were her children, which would do anything they were asked.

"Miss Myrindar, could you stop that god awful cawing from your birds? It's getting annoying..." Link complained.

That drove her over the edge. Zelda's eyes snapped open, although she didn't know she had even closed them to begin with. "That's it! I've had it with your games," she screamed. Link started backing up in fear, taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor. Zelda's normally cheerful and inviting hazel eyes shifted to a ferocious and blazing onyx, the same color as her children's bodies. "You came here today, because you had an offer on this place. I've listened to you, and listened to you! I'll have it no more, Mr. Reinarcher! You've insulted my deceased parents, you've insulted me, you've insulted this very place, and worst of all, you've insulted my children! You're right, I won't let you buy this place. You'll _die_ with this place!"

Raising her hand high above her head, Zelda swooped it down to point one bony finger at Link. In a symphony of caws, the ravens took the skies, and bombarded the poor unsuspecting man. Link screamed as Zelda's children took to his body, pecking and jabbing at whatever flesh was visible. A dark cloud soon took over the sunlight, darkening the vicinity. A wave of ravens, too many to count, swarmed down past Zelda and consumed Link. The glint of his beautiful hair vanished beneath a darkening cloud of feathers, claws, beaks, and unbearable noise. She started laughing, laughing to her heart's content.

Her birds scattered, till nothing in Link's spot remained.

"Thanks for visiting the Lake of Ravens Mr. Reinarcher," Zelda said to no one in particular. "I hope you enjoyed your stay."

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 **Well, that was the most unsettling, now wasn't it? Thanks for reading you guys, it really meant a lot to me having you all read this chapter! Next time, presumably on Tuesday or Wednesday, I'll be posting Chapter 6: Whiteout, which will return us to anonymity and a new male character taking the reins. I hope you all enjoyed this, and please leave a review letting me know what you thought! I love you all so much! Bye!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	6. (6): Girl Has An Axe

**Hey everyone, it's Paradigm of Writing here with a new chapter of Infernum... yeah, the fact that I finished this story like last July, well, then I got this idea and I was like, instead of wasting a new one-shot when I simply could add it to this piece of horror one-shots and continuations, it'd work, so that's what I'm doing! I am not using the characters' names this time around, so have one figuring out whom we are referring to. I like having my average word count high, which is skimming around 14k total from the 982k I've written on 68 stories, so it'll only go up from here. So, again, here we are with Chapter #6 of Infernum, Girl Has An Axe. Enjoy!**

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She watches him from afar as he is finishing the time at the counter, stuffing the old and worn mahogany wallet into his back pocket, gorgeous sandy blonde hair blowing in a ravenous tornado from the ceiling fan above. The moment her eyes crossed his, she couldn't get enough of him. Stunning diamond eyes, a gentle smile, one beautiful body with tantalizing curves and... she wants those eyes.

He exits the store, and she follows. The backpack on her left shoulder weighs her down expressively, but she is okay to deal momentarily with the pain as long as she gets what she wants in the end. Her navy hair mesmerizingly blows in the wind behind her, sharp cerulean lines blending with the emerald trees and azure sky, pallid clouds, halcyon sunshine rays. The man is walking fast, every two steps turns into three, three into six, and now he's running.

There's a moment of cursing, and she's running, too. Not going to plan, this isn't what she wanted. Her voice cries out a plea, _anything_ to make him stop. Anything... she has to see his eyes one last time before he's gone. She isn't a stalker, just someone who knows how to get what she desires and will stop at nothing to claim what is rightfully hers. A glimpse of his chilling spheres in the skull will make all of her trouble worth it.

The blonde has stopped, and he turns, a scowl plastered on his face.

"What?" His voice is harsh, stuttering, like nails raking down a chalkboard.

"I simply wanted to know your name. I saw you across the street in the convenience store, and you have the most enchanting eyes that I've ever seen."

He shoulders the bag of groceries he had been carrying, tension in the face relaxing, a slight smile building. The man loved compliments, his wife at home hardly ever gave him the time of day as she was so busy tending to floral gardens and gorgeous daises and roses that tower a mile high against crimson brick structures and church steeples.

"Well, you are very kind."

"I'm the type of girl that says what is always on her mind. A fatal flaw, right? Hubris..." she whispers, getting a little closer to him.

His lips form a thin line, grim, eyes clouded. "No, not hubris. Some- something else."

There was a truck that raced by, and next thing the two are colliding with each other, her lips on his, his hands on hers, and they are falling to the sidewalk in a collection of rasping gasps, curse words, laughs, and euphuisms being shared at a close proximal distance. Blonde and blue blurs together, scratch marks and whines and he's picking her up, they enter the closest, most private place they can find.

He knows it is wrong, he's married, he loves a woman at home. But she doesn't love him, is what he tells himself in his mind at this point, while his soft, pale hands go for the straps of her bra and his teeth are trailing down her neck. She is smiling throughout all of this, and she keeps on whimpering at him to open those eyes that she longs to see. Infatuation from the first sight, love truly could happen by one passing glance, cliché or not, she needed this.

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Their love consummates and he has now been cheating on her for exactly twenty four hours, and they're in bed together, crying against the wind and the plaster molds on the ceiling, lines being traced in his hips, words fluttering to the nape of her neck. She makes a half whine and gets up, calmly. She pushes him back to the bed, kissing slowly on his chest for him to stay, she'll be right back.

She would get his eyes, no way around it. Having been in the profession for a long time, it came down to a few general things. Find and follow a man stuck in a dead-end marriage, a guy with legs and a special phallic body part who couldn't muster the courage to end it as the woman gave him independence and a feeling of courage. Make sure they had formidable features and gorgeous eyes, the new lackey frothing about in her bed sheets took the cake by a tenfold.

Get the male's attention after a few days of surveillance. Put something forth that she knew they'd receive. Their sins would atone perfectly, they'd drown in their own infernum of lust and attention and pleas and flesh. She'd drag them to an inescapable hell, where their cardinal blood streams would race down pallid pillows and pool on musty, wool rugs.

The axe blade feels light in her hands, it is a familiar sense, where his arms are cold and evil, the weapon is solid and comforting. She walks back into the bedroom, hiding the lumberjack's best friend behind her back, a devilish smile placing itself on her lips. He sits up, thinking this is damn beautiful and he's about to get the pleasure of a lifetime from that deadbeat, end of the road marriage.

In her mind, she signs his personal death note. _Victim #100. Hah, lucky you. Victim one hundred. You've won a prize. Death_.

She shows him the axe, and for a moment, a split second as that is she allows him to have, there is confusion, and suddenly she has leapt forward and has slit his throat with the axe, crimson blood spewing forth and painting her a delightful life soaked red.

Her hands feel as if they are on air, her heart open, eyes screaming in euphoria as the blade slices and falls down again and again and again and again and again...

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 **There we are guys! Chapter 6 of Infernum, Girl Has An Axe. I got a little inspiration from Lizzie Borden and a few other sources of murder/cheating, but what this premise truly was, in essence, was, our female lead would lure men into her home, get them to cheat, and then dispose of them for adultery while claiming their beautiful eyes for her own. See my little Infernum reference? Yes? Hope so. I may go back to this story every once in awhile if I have a horror idea that is small enough to be fitting for a 1k-2k chapter, as that is all this story is for. Any greater ideas get turned into new one-shots. Thanks for reading guys. Please review! I love you all so much! Have an amazing day! Bye!**

 **~ Paradigm**


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